Down the Mountain
by The Waitress
Summary: An idea, a conspiracy, a crime, a riot, the hidden trigger that started the fall; some won't make it out unscathed, some won't make it out at all. This is total war. Heed the rating.


**Down the Mountain**

**Author: **The Waitress

**Ratings:** Heavily R for violence, blood, medical procedures, war scenes, sexuality, and controversial material. _**NOTE: **_This is not a "nice" story, rather a very human one and might be disturbing in some places.

**A/N:** Ah...future of about eight years. Entirely AU it may seem, but I think it is plausible. Okay, total civil war has broken out between powerful Normals and the Supers and has been going on for seven years. This is long, but it is meant to be a highly developed storyline, and therefore will not be updated often. Whether you enjoy it or not will probably sway its continuation. This is mainly just some exercise. Feedback is nice though.

**P.S: **I think Pixar was onto something making life not a walk in the park. Note that this is not a sounding board for my opinions, as I will have numerous ideas present in this story. Some you might agree with and some I won't agree with but are there for fleshing out. Simple as that.

Synlet may happen. You'll see.

**Disclaimer:** Some of the characters and situations in this story belong to Pixar, Disney, the creators of the movie The Incredibles and others affiliated. The rest belongs to me, but I don't think anyone cares about that. I have nothing against Motel 8.

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_Part One._

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Her eyes burned at the sight.

Bloody, groaning bodies of her _comrades, people she laughed and worked with_ were screaming and writhing in absolute agony, some were laying on medical cots as they were swarmed by nurses and doctors, and some were being rushed through the swinging doors that all working there knew led to the surgery room, where few came out.

Some weren't moving at all.

Violet sat on a worn cot in the corner, clutching her broken, sliced up arm, having been in the crossfire between a rain of bullets and exploding shrapnel grenades. It was still intact but she could feel the loss of blood going to her head. Her shoulder was shredded to the point where it hurt even when she didn't move.

Despite her vision's muzziness, her other senses were acutely aware of the wailing and shouting around her. She tried blocking it out but that led to awareness of the intense pain wavering through her bone-tired frame.

It had been a brutal fight, and it has been going on way too long.

Seven years ago Supers had rallied against the normals and anti-supers advocates that had begun taking out Supers from across the nation in an effort to stop Supers from 'breeding' as if they were some filthy dogs. To mingle with a Normal made it an even greater offense. The normals were only satisfied with the Supers being back for a short time before press and anti-_Superists_ came onto the scene.

Things slowly spun out of control: their organizations swiftly cutting down anyone protesting their anti-Super antics. Riots broke out, Supers were taken out of their homes and attacked in the streets, murders, rapes, it all happened on sky-rocketing levels to Normal and Super alike.

Law enforcement stopped trying to intervene, most were massacred anyway. Violet lost many Normal friends to the anti-Supers, either falling by their sword or joining their causes.

Tony hadn't been killed without a fight, not remotely aware his lover was a Super even at the very end of his young life, only that his beliefs were _right_.

Violet's entire family (Jack-Jack still too young to fight) had risen to the call of defending their fellow Supers. Because even though this was still their country, this was also their livelihood. And they all lost people to this sweeping frenzy.

The American Army could not intervene, having been pushed out of the fight by both sides, their decisions not noted. The Cold War was in full swing and they had chosen to ignore the hidden civil war raging within its own borders to defend from any outside interference.

However, the Supers have been receiving supplies and supportive doctors from them, although nothing was said or asked.

In the depression of losing Tony, her father - two months into the frenzy and already one of the appointed brigadier generals - had told her one night that long ago in the times of the World and Civil Wars, Supers were trained especially for this sort of war combat, and that it was coming back and that it was an area where _her_ powers might be needed. Violet remembered the hidden pride in his eyes when she told him and her reluctant mother about the decision.

It was her only vivid memory of him.

Violet met up with _them_ when she was only seventeen, initiated in just as this..._Super War_ as it had been called boiled steadily under the surface, and she grew into herself.

And her powers _were_ needed, for once she could do _something_. With her powers came purpose, and she was respected by most...

..At the cost of being feared by all.

Instead of giving up Super work like she would have before the Syndrome event, she trained and she became stronger and quicker and more _deadly_, all the while carrying a picture of Tony beneath her suit, pressed against her skin.

Supers might have powers most use for 'good' but that didn't mean they used them only for pure purposes. More of a Super-_soldier_, as many Supers called them, than a Superhero now.

Living to fight against humanity now rather than to protect it.

Now all she was is a weak, bloodied woman hunched over her bleeding stomach and clutching a broken arm waiting for her turn at some medical attention in a dingy medical tent three miles from the battlefield that takes up nearly half of Wyoming.

All the while mass killings were sweeping other states.

She could make out her now nineteen brother being hauled in thorough the cloth doors, howling in agony at his shattered leg and his charred torso being scrubbed. There would be scarring, lots of it.

"OH GOD PLEASE! AGH-" she shuddered at his screaming, hearing his bones crack as his leg was set properly, held down because of his violent thrashing. He would be able to run again, at least. She'd have gotten up had she the energy to provide anything for her brother.

_I can't give them anything anymore, can I? not when I can't even take care of myself._

To think the Normals could be so powerful, so knowledgeable, so _destructive_. They had been planning this for decades it seems, disabling Supers by the hundreds with calloused ease and sharp-shooter precision. Leaning on her good arm, Violet closed her eyes, thinking of where it all must have went wrong. Golden Ages a thing of the naive past...

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt a cold, gloved hand touch her shoulder gently, snapping her eyes back open.

It was a doctor: very tall, pale, had cloudy eyes and a surgical mask on, scars littered his temples and under his eyes, he had a surgical cover tying his hair back. He seemed like someone that used to be happy, but had lost it among this carnage. Or something, but she didn't care that much.

"I take it no one has been by." He shifted her broken arm slightly, watching her wince in silent protest.

"There are worse off people here - Ah!" The doctor stopped his ministrations, watching the Super racked by pain. She bit her lip until it bled to hold in her agony, feeling tremors run through her body. Picking up a cloth and medical disinfectant, he began gently dabbing in on her shoulder (her Super-soldier suit had not withstood very long), feeling her relax slowly under the cleaning.

"How long have you been on the battlefield?" Violet heard only clinical detachment in his slightly-high voice and it soothed her. Someone to talk to without interruption or judgment. She touched the eye mask still firmly glued to her face, it felt icy in the sweltering tent.

"A week an' a half.. damn normals brought out the short range missiles their little army uses. All shield providers were neede'." Violet realized in embarrassment her bloody lip was making her slur, but the doctor only hummed in assent, working his way down to the deep gash above her elbow noticing the purple bruising at the joint.

"Does it hurt when you bend it?"

"Ah..I think ish broken." The doctor scowled heavily, from what she could only see his eyes narrowed, mask covering his mouth, and motioned for a harried nurse to bring him a splint. He turned back to her and Violet noticed his eyes drop to the long, open wounds across her belly.

"Ish only superficial."

"They might get infected. No chances," he responded impatiently, taking out another cloth and carefully pushing her to lie on her back, wincing at the stretching and pulling from the caked-on blood. He set to work as if this wasn't a entirely gory situation, as if the country wasn't falling in on itself and that she was coming in for a routine checkup or something.

She felt her throat tighten, something she hadn't experienced since she was sixteen, before emotion became an indulgence, before she hardened herself to the world. To say she wasn't affected by the war is a lie, she was turning to stone the protect herself, knowing that if she thought too long the life she had shakily built would come crashing down.

The doctor paused, unsure what to do as the young woman before him sank into herself. He had been practicing since the war started (they had taken anyone for the Supers that was willing) but he hadn't been one of the psychological ones, listening and comforting. He hadn't even been good with people long before that, and he wished now more than ever he was.

Dropping the bloodied cloth back on the tray, he pulled gauze from a roll and began wrapping it around her tiny waist, noting with grim amusement he might need only a strip or two. Bruises stained her pale skin, over her now-showing ribs, in the exaggeratedly concave of her stomach shining with fresh blood from the slices in her belly.

Wrapping her stomach and shoulder up quickly, he ignored the illness dancing through his head, pooling at the back of his skull. "Your arm, by the way, is only fractured. It still needs the splint, though. Do not try and lift your shoulder either." Violet exhaled, calming herself down as the doctor helped her sit up, telling her quickly she should not do any pulling or stretching. She lifted her arm, now in a splint the nurse from before had brought and looked at the tight, hard casing of it.

Not like the one she had when she was ten and fell from the monkey bars, not like it at all.

The doctor cleared his throat rather awkwardly, nodding a polite dismissal of himself to her and spinning on his heel, taking the medical tray with him.

Violet, without thinking stood right up intending to stop him, screamed out in pain at the ripping she felt tear across her abdomen and fell right back onto the cot, trembling at a pain she couldn't ease.

However the doctor did indeed turn around, a peek of annoyance shining though and she clung to that, she hadn't seen any emotion other than anger and pain and sadness and horror in _so_ long anything was acceptable now. She almost forgot there was more to the world than what she lived in.

"Nice going."

She would have laughed had it not hurt to breathe, glaring instead. The doctor once again set her carefully on the cot, watching her with something akin to curiosity.

"Why did you try to stand?" His voice was once again clinical. Violet sighed, weary and still feeling in _pain, always pain._

"Technically I didn't fully stand," she snapped, anger rilling in her at his calmness while she lay prone. _That's Violet for you, leaving no hair unsplit._

"I, just wanted to thank you," came her hoarse reply, turning away from him, aware he towered over her slumped form. The doctor raised an thin eyebrow, slight disbelief freezing his eyes, which were still cloudy, however his face became blank and still once again.

"No problem." Violet grinned slightly, feeling her lip tighten against the dried blood over the cut, but it felt good to smile again. She wondered if she looked deranged.

Suddenly a wailing alarm went off, they sharply turned to see a Super-soldier, clad in the traditional black and navy glossy suit worn by them, push through the doors signaling for Violet and the three wounded soldiers to follow her before spinning out out the tent.

Violet looked around for her brother, and felt wary relief seeing him now asleep across the room, leg propped in a cast and his entire chest bandaged heavily.

Violet's face fell, the General only personally gathered them if it was not good.

The doctor helped her to her feet, steadying her with a single large hand, which was freshly gloved again. For a second Violet felt violated, as if this man shouldn't even really be touching her. She knew that was only the instinct developed over time, yet she still wasn't very welcoming of him.

But she accepted what little comfort this moment provided as he walked her to the Super-soldier, knowing this might be the last time she felt anything like it.

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Violet fell asleep in the traveling tank, a vehicle as strong as a tank, but with no offensive, her head banging against the metal headrest the entire way there.

A sudden jolt shocked her awake, feeling a splitting agony in the back of her head. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, wincing at the stiffness in her fractured arm, and the pulling of her bandaged stomach, Violet blandly wondered what part of her _wasn't _hurt. Luckily she hadn't needed stitches, like some of the others huddled on the floor.

She glanced around, seeing her fellow soldiers sleeping peacefully on the cramped floor and seats, occasionally giving off a grunt as the tank lurched.

There were only twenty Super-soldiers, each with a different power that they all somehow managed to make work in uniform. These Supers were her family for now. Thinking that, Violet unbiddingly went back to the image of her brother being brought in, and she wondered where her mother and father were. They were some of the youngest parents with full grown Super-children there, but still...

A snort brought her back to the darkened tank, and her eyes focused in on a crouched figure across from her. It was the 'General,' or as the soldiers kindly called her, Elaine. Eloquent, a cunning leader and well-seasoned for being twenty-eight, with cold green eyes and short brown hair loosely held back with a bland headband, making her pale skin overwhelming on such a tiny face.

Violet knew that if Elaine hadn't been so ragged looking and bony, she could have been very attractive and her strength known instantly. _Who was she before all this?_

They all had aged, Violet knew she looked much older than her twenty-four years with an even skinnier frame and more ashen skin than before, she hadn't grown but her face took on a more feminine shape, longer and less wide-eyed; despite knowing she had once been _beautiful_ but that frivolous things were not important anymore, vanity was still roiling through her at the thought of what she once had.

The two sat in comfortable silence for the longest time, eventually relaxing back against the metal headrest Violet gave Elaine a weary smile, and received a smirk. They always got along well, respectful and compatible. Not to mention they were two of the six women on the team and it was nice to have something in common other than powers.

Elaine could paralyze people - even mentally - with her eyes up to a hundred meters away, and was very resourceful; she had trained Violet in everything to the point she could beat _Elaine_ in a spar with the help of the others, if she didn't use paralysis, of course.

"Arm?" Elaine never talked much. Violet carefully flexed, feeling a slight pang, but not much else, she didn't try raising it.

"Good, can't bend just yet though." Violet huffed for emphasis, watching Elaine nod curtly with the shadow of a smile and look away, eyes skirting over the slumbering soldiers with the expression of a protective parent.

Violet's eyes burned suddenly.

"...Your brother?" Came the quiet, almost gentle question meant to soothe, although Violet still felt hurt pool in her chest, worse than any injury she's ever had. _Dash,_ she wishes time hadn't been wasted arguing and fighting with him, rather laughing and smiling like she should have done.

_Been a good sister..._

"Injured, he'll recover though, he's the fastest messenger we have." Dash had been trained in using his powers to infiltrate enemy bases and transfer messages that couldn't be sent via radio for the past two years. Violet remembered the day he realized that using his powers like he always wanted to wasn't as exciting - or as painless - as they all had hoped.

He was the first of them to lose his spark, and it went downhill from there. Her father and mother - _Mr. Incredibles and Elastigirl_ - had put Jack-Jack in the care of the NSA, the last official Super organization standing amidst the tremendous pressure to cave and pull out.

She hasn't seen her brother, or heard from them since.

Violet tucked her legs to her chest, carefully avoiding her wounds, lolling head forward with the movement of the tank. From what she had been told, they were on their way to Montana to hunt down one of Normality Movement's (as they preferred to be called, all the while slaughtering anyone, normal or Super in their path) more obscure groups.

It was funny in a sick way, Violet thought, how both sides had so many things going on underneath the public eye it would be too difficult to find out what _everyone_ on the Normality Movement _or_ The Allies' side was doing.

This wasn't the Super civil rights movement she learned about in high school, this was just hatred and it was not going to be fixed by this fighting.

Elaine cracked her back, toying with the tight cuff of her suit, the strap around her wrist a walkie-talkie connected to nineteen others, all within this tank. "How is your brother doing, Elaine?" Violet knew she shouldn't asked, but did anyway.

Elaine was silent a moment, eyes looking over the still slumbering soldiers with that same expression. "He has put his family into NSA protection. I haven't heard news." Violet nodded, aware that she has already stepped on a touchy subject; from what she could glean, Elaine's brother Isaac was not a Super.

No one brought up each other's families, especially if any of them were Normals.

There was too much against Normals nowadays to make it acceptable. After a pause, Elaine looked back at Violet, eyes piercing, freezing her insides. "Although, I think of this as rather a time to protect than not. We need to keep our people as safe as can be, impossible as it is," her tone was ominous.

Violet almost asked what she meant, but then heard one of the men shift, and both agreed to get some shut-eye before they reached the Montana-Canadian border, knowing they wouldn't get any for a while. Elaine got up to tell the driver something, and never came back.

Violet slept dreamlessly for the next twenty-two hours, drowning herself in exhaustion and discomfort.

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Years had passed since she saw anything so free and open, and Violet could only describe the view as astonishingly beautiful. Mountains pierced the horizon, and the air was crisp and cool, filling her lungs to the point of bursting because she couldn't get enough.

Turning around she trotted back to the supply tank that had trailed her tank, picking up a supply box with a mental shield and grabbing a ration box with her good hand. Looking around she saw the very, very obscured opening to their 'lair' amid the brush and boulders.

"Hey Parr, wait up!" Rolling her eyes angrily Violet saw Luke Black carrying several computer cases in his hands and... several copies of himself trotting behind him with 'their' own equipment.

Only five inches taller than her and by far the most handsome man in her books with his bronzed skin and light hair and eyes, he was also one of the strongest on the force. Able to replicate himself and transform into anything, he was their leading social spy and negotiator with his quick wit and 'people' skills.

Not to mention he has assassinated some of the Normality Movement's leading officials by impersonating close officials, earning a foothold into the 'NM's Most Wanted' category alongside Elaine, something he took great pride in.

But he just annoyed her sometimes, he was always the swelled head of the place, and that grated on her.

Huffing, Black took quick strides up to Violet, grinning over the stiffness he felt from being on a hard floor with his knees up to his chin for twenty something hours. "Have you heard that a medical team's coming up with us?"

Violet almost lost her concentration on the shield holding the heavy case over her head. "What? _A medical team?_ General hasn't mentioned anything of the sort to me." She contemplated that for a moment, a medical team normally had several people on it, but this was a secret mission...

Black's eyes shined mischievously and he bent close to her ear as they walked to the entrance, quickly looking around before speaking. "Not like _that_... I think it is something under the _guise_ of one. Like... like a special ops sort of thing." Violet snorted, Black was known for his imaginative theories.

Judging by the shadowed look on his face, however, she could tell this was worrying him, it was not often they came on missions so far away from the Ally army, especially when the Normality Movement was going to such great lengths to wipe out any stragglers.

Opening the ground door, Black let Violet go first, carefully lowering the shielded box to a blond soldier below. "Look, if Gen' was going to do anything like that, she would have told us. If not..." Violet dropped down, aided by the soldier, watching as Black dropped the computers cases delicately on the conveyor belt running along the underground tunnel.

"If not, then who are we to question her - she has been doing this a lot longer than us."

Black helped another soldier drop down, setting another case of something on the belt, he didn't speak for a moment, which Violet was grateful for. "I hope you're right Vi', but, something screams 'wrong' here."

Violet watched as the heavy metal door was closed, cutting her off from the sky and clear air, exhaling heavily, the door was locked and bolted, shrouding them in shadows. "Let's get moving before we lose all the good beds." Violet smiled despite herself, "You act like this is the Hilton."

"Nope, more like a... Motel 8." She laughed and he joined in, the aching in her wounds forgotten.

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He was wrong. It was more like a bomb shelter about thirty cots had been set up in what had been labeled the main room, but only three people were actually setting themselves up. Violet dropped her personal bag on a cot, seeing Black do the same right next to hers and walked up to the three soldiers, chatting absently.

"Where is everybody?" Marlene, a muscular woman stopped talking and eyed Violet, smiling softly, her powerful frame rippling with inhuman strength. "They went to a meeting with the General." Randy, the blond that helped her down nodded slowly, creating ice on his fingers.

"Yeah," he chimed in casually, "something concerning the people more experienced in computers. We are gunners, not whizzes so we decided to stay here."

The other blond, Henrick, wasn't paying attention to them anymore, one of the machine gun cases at the foot of his bed open as he examined them one by one with loving caresses. Black and Violet looked at each other, then back to the gunners, frowns touching their faces.

"Either way, come with us, I've heard it's important." The three gunners shrugged, but got up and began walking, turning the corner down a narrow hall, leading them to a heavy metal door. The woman pushed it open and held it for the others and Violet noted the bulging muscles in Marlene's arm compared to her stick-like ones with slight envy.

The room was as bland and dimly lit as the Main Room, with an assortment of tables scattered around and different chairs seemingly collected on a desperate whim. Fifteen heads turned to see who entered; at the head of the room stood Elaine grinning mirthlessly.

"Glad you could make it. Finish with the conveyor belt?" Black nodded, Violet all too aware of her fellow soldiers' gazes to speak up. Behind her the gunners shifted, giving her the idea they hadn't been doing their job of helping.

"Yes General. All have been accounted for and will be sorted at your command." Elaine nodded, gesturing for them all to sit. Once she had everyone's attention again, Elaine continued, her voice clear and low.

"Now, you must all be wondering exactly _why_ we are just under the Canadian border, hundreds of miles from our Allies. Some of you no doubt are questioning my sanity," her cold eyes seemed to find specific people, as several shifted awkwardly.

She paused for effect, then started. "I have no reason to disclose my plans to you other than the fact that you are my team as I am your leader, and I come to a conclusion about exactly _what_ you all should know right now." Pushing off of the wall, Elaine strode over the the lone desk beside her, unlatching the sleek case on top of it, reaching in and pulling a black metallic box out.

Violet squinted, but beside her Black gasped, nudging him she got a whispered, "That's an electrical scrambler. They are rumored to still be under construction but..." Black looked at his leader in awe, "she must have swiped it from the NM on the last mission."

Violet only nodded, eying the box as Elaine's long fingers played across it. Then, she pushed carefully on one side and the box lit up, eliciting gasps and several soldiers reaching for their guns. "Stand down, this is part of what I want to show you." The box didn't do anything else, but Elaine looked back at them with a satisfied expression.

"What you see here is an electronic communication scrambler, created by Normality Movement's scientists at the start of this war. The name, however, has nothing to do with its purpose." Her face hardened, "this is what has been helping them track down our organizations and Ally army squadrents, thus always having the upper hand on us at all times."

Silence ensued, and Violet wasn't the only one confused, but judging by the man leaning against the wall closest to Elaine, with his sharp scowl, it was not good whatever it meant.

"This device means that they know exactly where, how many, and what kind of Supers are residing in places. Several scientists and doctors of the NSA are joining us tonight to find out _how_ they know so we can figured out how to stop them."

Grimly noting her soldiers' dawning horror at the fact that the Normals knew where they were this whole time, and Supers were only being picked off at their selection, she realized this was the only way to let them know.

_This was an experiment in the making. And they were only fighting what the Normals let them fight, biding their time..._

"There is more," the General cut in. Everyone's eyes slid to her. Arms folded, she stared straight at the door.

"They have discovered a frequency, that could turn our powers against us, however at the moment, they are unable to translate it, and harness it long enough to tramist. It blows out every single one of their transmiters."

Violet couldn't wrap her head around it, feeling the pulling of her skin on her stomach and the tensing of her fracture, horror that all her family's suffering, Tony, _seven years_ -

_What is this frequency?_

"So," came her hoarse whisper that somehow sounded deafening on the stone walls to everyone, "what do we do?" General Elaine heaved a sigh, age not hers crossing her face, looking to the very tall man beside her almost for support, she seemed to find her ground and made eye contact with all of them _(how did she do that?)_.

"_We_, as in the Super-soldiers, have come to the near-border for one reason. Do you realize that the Normality Movement has not covered the mountains, simply because they underestimate our knowledge about their devices, and that there is too much interference? We are not quite near the mountains, so were are safe, but their devices are not reaching here. If they unleashed the transmission, we will have enough time to react. The Normality Movement, despite this, has set up their main base nearby, cut off from all incoming electronic and radio currents to prevent us from tracking them in turn isolating them? You see, their paranoia and lack of faith in us," she scoffed, "will be their downfall."

Judging by the still stunned responses of her team, Elaine nodded, understanding; from what her mole in NM's Atlantic base told her, she still didn't believe some of it.

"I will speak to you all individually and together later on, until then, you may go back to the Main Room or the training facility set up until the medical team arrives. Showers are not running just yet, we are trying to find a decent water source, sorry. Anyone with questions, please ask them."

No one spoke. No one could.

Elaine curtly dismissed them, ignoring the scandalized whispers coming from them and the distrusting glances that turned ashamed from doubting their leader. Leaning against the wall and exhaling her relief, she didn't notice Violet ditch Black and slowly walk up.

"Elaine?" The older woman opened her eyes, and Violet swallowed thickly before continuing. "Just- what exactly do you mean by..."

She couldn't finish it, it was too betraying a thought.

Elaine watched her for a moment, sending a glance to the very tall pale man, who seemed to get the message and strode with his long legs to the door, closing it gingerly behind him. Violet looked at her leader with something akin to malice, enjoying how Elaine managed to look guilty for once in her life. _Serves her right for saying such lies._

_Was it though?_ Violet couldn't process it all.

Elaine gestured to a chair in front of the worn desk, obliging Violet to sit, pulling up a wobbly chair herself. Neither spoke for the longest time, and when Violet did, it sounding harsh in her throat.

"You have your reasons, I am sure. So I will not ask them, but, if you want to keep my explicit trust I suggest you begin talking, Ma'am." Violet was aware of the disrespect she must be showing, however, nothing could excuse this woman from saying such things to the soldiers, who have given their _lives (did they have a choice?)_ for this. For nothing?

Elaine looked grateful, something Violet felt uncomfortable beholding, and sighed, looking off somewhere into the distance. "As a group leader, I am telling you this only because of your authority position. Agreed?" Elaine raised her eyebrows meaningfully, Violet nodded. Elaine let out a breath.

"I did not mean to suggest that our efforts have been in vain. In fact the opposite has happened. Normals, having subconsciously conditioned us to serve them, felt we would listen to the inbred desire to protect rather than harm Normals; therefore neutering our abilities to fight back. What they didn't take into consideration is that we protect our own, and some of our own are Normals."

She stopped, breathing deeply; it was obvious she's not use to talking so much in one day. Probably not even a week.

Violet waited.

"That box you see there," jerking her head to the still glowing box, its red stripes humming with vibrate energy, "is an advantage they have over us. I have the strongest belief that it can _pick up_ on Super's energy. How, I do not know, I know very little about myself as a Super, but I have the feeling, this will be what transmits the frequency," Elaine paused, aware of how sad sounding her statement was. Violet, on the other hand, pieced it together, not feeling as horrified as before, rather a disturbing sense of calm.

War instinct. Autopilot.

"Normals have taken advantage of our ignorance, they must know more about us than we'll ever figure out."

"For one to understand, they must be the one looking in, not out. We are not curious about ourselves as Supers. Almost none of us know _where_ our power comes from. Genes? Mutation? Do you see? As we went out and fought villains and crime and other Supers, they studied us. Sure, some of them might have genuine in their studying, and we have some of those scientists coming, but the others..." Violet knew the rest.

"This is no chance civil war. Plans for this have been on the ground running for decades." _All for what though? What can they gain?_

Violet was certain Elaine had a clairvoyance about her, or played the role of one. "I do not know what they seek to gain. But, if we do not start learning about ourselves, the world we live in, we are leaving room for us to be wiped out. The Supers of today are the most vulnerable, and we cannot afford a massacre like the riots in Manhattan." Violet knew exactly what she was referring to, having lost several friends to the rioting years ago.

"Violet, it is very likely they merely want the destruction of the known world." Violet bit her tongue to hold her sickness off.

Elaine leaned forward, folding her hands together, her eyes locked Violet's. "Whatever the reasons, they no longer are applicable. A war has begun, and as Supers, we must fight it. Until the time comes where we need to begin educating the majority of our Supers, we need to fight and leave the thinking for others who cannot. The entire... mind aspect of this can be taken care of once the physical warfare ends."

Violet nodded, so much information to fit neatly into her head, so little time. Her eyes slid to the electrical box, narrowing in suspicion.

"They cannot track us anymore. As I said earlier, they have underestimated us." A glint shone in Elaine's eye, and Violet was amused despite herself.

"Always believed you were some closet nerd."

"I prefer...aspiring geek."

Laughing quietly, they indulged themselves in the idea that things might someday become good again.

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She found Black sprawled over _both_ their beds, his arms behind his head and eyes staring straight at the ceiling, legs balanced on his bed. Ignoring the whispering groups around her Violet made a bee-line for her partner, stretching herself across the two beds, body suspended. Silence waved over them, and they began breathing in sync. Black opened one eye, a light grin touching his lips.

"Girl talk?"

"Pssh. Don't be so shallow. No - it was...an understanding." She bit her lip, hating keeping such big things from Black, but knowing her General had confided in her specifically for some reason. And she refused to betray that trust.

"Ah...good." He was quiet a moment, and Violet knew what he might be thinking about. Black might be the optimist of the team, but he was not without his own problems. His own memories.

"I lost _eight_ family members to this mockery of a war, cousins, uncles and aunts, a sister," Black wasn't _looking_ at the ceiling, rather boring holes in hopes to see the sky from sixty feet under. "It's not that what she said was bad...but..."

She closed her eyes. "It hurt to finally know the truth." Black shifted, turning on his side, hips dipping dangerously close the ground, facing Violet. "Yeah." That was all they could say, really, because so much was left to know. Breathing slowly, she recalled something.

"Luke...there are thirty cots. I thought only a small group would be coming." His eyes furrowed in thought, then lit back up. "Maybe they're bringing some babes!" His shout elicited joking cheers from several males who then laughed heartily; the four women in the room rolling their eyes simultaneously. Violet was in awe of his ability to change moods.

"Whose to say the women aren't the doctors?" Violet said scathingly, she hated sexist jokes, and Black knew it; in reality he just liked pushing her buttons. "Well, even better. Smart women, and you can get the brainless jocks. Everybody wins."

"This feels like high school..."

"Really, I haven't been to high school in ten years."

"Hasn't changed."

"Oh."

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No one slept.

All were quickly setting the base up with practiced ease, when Elaine had come in to announce the plumbing was working, cheers rose up through the place. In reality, they were just trying to make this as tolerable as possible, making sure no one got too caught up thinking about the carnage no doubt occurring back in Wyoming where many's family still fought.

Or the bloody street fights going around over the country, the experimenting and torturing occurring on both sides.

Violet shook her head, now _she_ was doing it. She was in the computer room, with over forty large monitors and CPU devices now neatly arraigned on high tables all along the walls. There was barely any walking room, but only a few people knew how to work them. Finding the electrical outlet she plugged a back-up hard drive in, standing up and looking at the computers that all had to be connected to each other.

She'll leave that for someone else, computers were _not_ her forte.

Marlene rushed through the door, panting heavily. She was down to a traditional tank and work jeans, the air wasn't on yet.

"Violet, the medical team is here," Her voice was soft and breathy.

Violet's pulse rose. This was it; it all was really happening now. Jogging out the door behind Marlene they rounded a corner to the completely packed Main Room.

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Dash's eyes opened, and the first thing he felt was tight, as if his skin was too small for him.

Squinting despite the low lighting, his eyes sharpened, taking in the tranquility of the sterile room. It was the medical tent; he had been in here numerous times, but never _woke up_ here.

A low boom roared in the distance, and his mind snapped awake. The fight! He made to leaped up, only to now feel the tight leather of restraints holding him to the cot.

_Screaming, the explosion of grenades. Zipping past the carnage with practiced ease, his leg caught on a metal beam and-_

His breathing came his gulps, suddenly feverish and blistering; he felt heat fester in his chest like wildfire. The smoke and flames, the crunching sound of his leg..

He raised his head and high as he could expecting the worst, enough to see his left foot tenting the thin sheets and the other propped up in a heavy cast. Plopping back down in relief, he wondered about the lingering pangs tickling his front. Turning his head carefully to see an IV drip containing some numbing drug no doubt, the line dropping down to his arm and another dropping to his collarbone.

Bandages covered his entire torso, all the way up to his neck an down to his hips. _Apparently I wasn't fast enough for all those grenades,_ he thought bitterly.

Clunking of boots was heard and a shadow hovered over his face, focusing into a smiling nurse, whose eyes scanned him carefully.

"Dashiel Robert Parr - or _The Dash_ I should say - you worried us." Dash tried to speak, but his throat felt like sandpaper. The nurse quickly reached behind him and placed an ice chip into Dash's mouth, eagerly sucking on it.

"W-what happened? Did I-" he began coughing, and that unfurled a fireball of pain the drugs couldn't prevent rocketing though his frame. He swore.

"You've been out for two days. Your commander was by, saying you did manage to set up the stationary shields. Quite impressed, he was." Dash grinned, pain forgotten. Stationary shields had been designed after his sister's shields yet weren't quite on that level, and soon became a key defense when the Normals brought out Super-disabling missiles. He was one of a few that could get close enough to the Normals and set it up without injury.

His grin died, not quick enough.

The nurse sighed, looking around as if for a doctor, and Dash noticed the other occupied beds many shifting in pain. He remembered something-

Finally the nurse spoke again, "Your sister, I believe her name is Violet? Parr? Her team took off, some mission I suspect. I have heard no news of your parents, Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl." Dash nodded; identities were kept hidden, but the Supers had found no reason to keep up with them, especially in a crisis like this.

The Normality Movement knew all of them anyway. NSA couldn't keep them from storming their main building for long.

"Can-can you alert my commander?" The nurse clicked his tongue, eyes sliding to the cast, narrowing in suspicion.

"From the medical report, you are in no position to be moving, let alone _fighting_. Your leg-"

"Screw my leg! I need to fight!" Several moans came from the beds at the outburst, and the nurse grimaced. "Sir, I understand but-"

"No! You _don't_ understand! My _family_ is off fighting for the preservation of Supers maybe even the know world and I'm strapped to a damn bed!" Dash thrashed, his mind clouding with pain but he couldn't _just lay here and wait to heal._

A sharp pain was driven into his arm, and slowly, his vision blurred, '_Is everyone... okay...? How.. could I fa...'_

Tranquility set in, and he gladly surrendered.

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_End Part One._

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End file.
